


Armor

by jesileigh



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Spec, prompt, season 6.5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 00:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15425088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesileigh/pseuds/jesileigh
Summary: Just another day in the life of Megan Prince: single mom and pink-haired barista extraordinaire. Prompt from @ENSM31 and @lexiblackbriar.





	Armor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still technically on hiatus but I saw this prompt after the set photos were released tonight and I just whipped this up quickly. I'll see myself out again.

“What can I get for you?” Felicity asks for what must be the thousandth time today. The woman in the power suit before her barely looks up from her phone to rattle off her order.

“Sixteen ounce Americano, extra hot with two ounces of coconut milk. No more, no less,” she adds with far more venom than alternative milk choices really warrant.

“Can I get a name for your order?” she prompts, but the woman is already ignoring her again, her blood red fingernails clicking on the screen of her phone in a way that makes Felicity cringe. “Ma’am? Your name?” Felicity repeats, but the woman responds with a scoff and an eyeroll instead of an answer, so Felicity takes a deep breath and turns away, muttering to herself as she writes the order on a cup. “One Americano for Bitchy Becky coming right up.”

 

She slams the paper cup down on the counter harder than she needs to, deciding she needs to take a minute to compose herself before returning to the line of customers waiting for her at the counter.

“Rough day?” the next one asks before she can even turn around with her fake smile plastered over her face. 

“No worse than usual,” she responds when she sees who it is. His name is Josh and he’s a regular at Radu’s Coffee, someone Felicity has seen at least once a day since she started here three months ago. As far as customers go, he’s not bad. In fact, Felicity actually finds herself looking forward to his appearances these days. He’s polite and kind and a  _ really _ good tipper, especially for a yet-to-be-published comic book artist. Not to mention how much William has taken to him over time. It’s been a hard five months for both Felicity and her stepson, neither of them having any contact with their friends or family back home, so any friendly conversation is welcome at this point. She’s built quite a rapport with Josh, and it feels  _ good _ to have a friend to talk to again. It almost feels normal. And normalcy is in short supply for Felicity and William--or Megan and Sam Prince, as they are called now.

Josh slides onto his usual stool at the counter and takes his time setting up his laptop as Felicity calls out for Joan who ordered a latte macchiato before she sets about making his usual.

“Where’s your boy today, Meg?” Josh asks, his eyes searching the cafe for William. It’s a Tuesday afternoon and William usually meets her here after school, working on his homework in a corner booth and drinking hot chocolate. 

“Oh, Sam has his first mathletes meeting today, actually,” she tells him proudly. It’s taken a while, but the alias finally rolls off of her tongue. William chose his own name when they went into protective custody, in honor of his mother. Felicity, on the other hand, had taken the lazy route of using her middle name. In fact, the only effort she’d truly put into disguising herself was dying her hair a bright pink and putting her septum piercing from college back in. If she has to live a secret life in protective custody, she may as well have fun with it.

“Mathletes, huh? I should have known,” Josh grins. “Smart like his mom.” Felicity doesn’t respond, instead she slides Josh’s mocha with extra syrup across the bar to him.

“All that sugar is going to kill you one day,” she scolds him, wiping the splash of whipped cream from her hand onto her apron.   
“Aw, she does care,” Josh teases her, taking a sip and winking over the top of the mug.

“You’re the best tipper I’ve got. How else am I supposed to pay the rent?” 

“Maybe with a job worthy of your intellect instead of serving jerks coffee?” Josh suggests, his tone softer and more serious. 

“You don’t--” Felicity protests, “I’m not-- I  _ like _ this job.” She’s lying through her teeth. She knows that. But all she can do is hope Josh can’t see through her facade. She and William are finally settled in here in Hope Springs (and the irony of the name of the town they’ve been relocated to is not lost on her). She can’t ask him to uproot his entire life  _ again _ because she blew their cover. 

“I’m sorry. It’s not--I’m overstepping,” Josh stammers, his cheeks going a bit red. Felicity forces a thin smile and sighs.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate--” she begins, but he holds up a hand, waving her off.

“No, no I totally get it. You’re a single mom, you’re working your butt off to take care of your kid. It’s commendable. My mom raised me solo too, I get it. Just you and him against the world and all that. Just...don’t sell yourself short, you know?” Felicity swallows the lump in her throat and nods. If only the man before her knew the life she had before all of this. Back when she was a CEO in a loft apartment in downtown Star City, married to the mayor and fighting crime with a team of vigilantes. It’s laughable, when she thinks about it this way. Like something out of one of Josh’s superhero stories. 

“You barely know me,” she manages to tell him, shaking her head. 

“You’re right,” he agrees. “But I’d like to. If you’d let me. Maybe we could grab dinner sometime--you could bring Sam, of course.” And suddenly Felicity is panicking. She steps backward so quickly that she almost falls over the mop bucket on the floor behind her and her words are coming out in a torrent she can’t stop before she even realizes she’s speaking.

“That’s not--we can’t--I’m not--” she tries to get out an excuse, but she can’t seem to form a coherent sentence and she can feel an anxiety attack building the harder she tries.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear I totally understand if you aren’t interested,” Josh insists. “I’m so sorry, Megan, I swear.” Felicity bites her lip to stop herself from continuing, her hand instinctively reaching for the chain around her neck. On it hangs two silver bands and the cool metal grounds her when she wraps her fingers around them, even as she feels her throat tighten. “Just forget I said anything, okay? Can we do that?” he asks, and Felicity nods slowly.

“I’m sorry for freaking out--I just--it’s,” she takes a deep breath. “It’s only been five months since we--. Everything is still so fresh and I--”

“I didn’t know or I never would have asked, honestly, Meg. I guess I just assumed he was some deadbeat who ditched the two of you, I had no idea you were a widow.”

Felicity stops herself before she can respond to that, her head tilting to the side involuntarily as she takes it in. She certainly hadn’t meant to go that route, but it seemed to be working so who was she to argue?

“I appreciate that. And really, I’m sorry for reacting like that. Let me get you another mocha,” she offers, taking his empty mug from the bar and quickly heading for the other side of the counter to refill it. She returns it to him silently, a layer of awkward tension stopping her from jumping back into their usual banter. It’s probably for the best, she tells herself. Clearly he was getting the wrong idea from her and the last thing she needs is to lead on a kind stranger while her husband fights for his life in prison. She feels a pang of guilt in her chest at the thought of Oliver in a dark, damp cell, staring at the only picture he was allowed. The photo he had taken of his family one day while they were baking holiday cookies for his staff at City Hall. The memory alone is enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she does what she’s best at and pushes those feelings down before locking them up so she can ignore them for another day.

  
She busies herself wiping down the counter and gathering the bus tub of dishes from the dining room as the afternoon crowd dies down. Josh is immersed in his work, sketching something she can’t quite make out from the angle he’s sitting at, only looking up to ask for another mocha an hour or so later. It’s almost six when William finally strolls in with a smile on his face--something that has become more common in the last few weeks. Felicity is so grateful that he is fitting in at his new school. It certainly makes things a bit easier.

“Hey, Mom,” he says, taking the stool next to Josh at the bar. He hoists his bag onto the seat next to him and starts rummaging through it, looking for something.

“Hey kiddo, how was practice?” she asks, leaning over the counter to talk.

“I loved it. I got the most correct answers on the pretest--a 96%!” he finds what he’s searching for, then slides a piece of paper over to her. It’s a bit crumpled from where he’d shoved it in his backpack, but she looks it over with pride, grinning as she takes it all in.

“This is fantastic, W--Sam!” she catches herself, her enthusiasm causing her to slip up for a brief moment. Luckily, nobody seems to notice. “Maybe we can get dinner to celebrate. I’m done here in about fifteen minutes.”

“Big Belly Burger?” William asks hopefully, his eyes going wide.

“Absolutely,” Felicity agrees, reaching to brush his hair out of his face. “Your dad would be so proud of you,” she tells him, and his smile only falters for a second.

“Thanks,” he says softly, his gaze falling to the rings on her necklace and she can tell he’s fighting the same fight she is today. Without another word she leans over the counter and pulls him towards her until she can reach to plant a kiss on top of his head. He’s grown at least six inches in the months since they left Star City and it’s ridiculous the way he towers over her now. “Mom,” he whines, running his fingers through his hair like he’s embarrassed. Felicity just laughs and ruffles his hair until it’s a complete mess, causing him to groan at her again.

“What are you working on now?” William asks Josh as Felicity starts stacking chairs on tables so she can close up the shop.

“Have you ever heard of the Green Arrow?” he asks, and Felicity freezes where she stands, a chill running down her spine as she slowly turns to look at them.

“Uhh…” William hesitates and Felicity can tell he’s trying to decide how to answer the question, but Josh, thankfully, doesn’t give him a chance.

“He’s this vigilante from Star City up north. An archer. Put a lot of evil people away. So they just found out he was the  _ mayor _ of the city and put him in prison--can you believe that?” Josh scoffs at the idea like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Anyway, it sounds like a story just begging to be a comic book, so I thought I’d try my hand at it. What do you think?” he turns his screen towards William who immediately scrunches up his nose.

“Why does he have that awful goatee?” he questions, and Josh frowns at that.

“You don’t think it works?” Josh asks. “I was going for a bit of a Robin Hood vibe, see the tights and the hat?” William raises an eyebrow at him and shakes his head slowly. “Well then. I guess I can rework the look a little bit,” he says with a shrug. 

“I think it’s great that you’re sharing his story,” William says thoughtfully. “He sounds like a real hero.” Felicity smiles sadly at that as Josh nods in agreement.

“He is a hero. Which is why it’s so insane that they locked him up. We don’t have many heroes left these days. I hope they realize that eventually.” 

 

It isn’t until hours later, after the coffee shop is closed and they've waved goodbye to Josh. After a celebratory dinner at Big Belly Burger, milkshakes included, and a walk back to their tiny little two bedroom apartment over the bodega on the corner. After William bids her goodnight and she sinks down into her mattress, kicking off her shoes and staring up at the ceiling. That’s when she finally lets her tenuous grasp on her emotions slip. She rolls to her side and clings to her pillow, sobbing into it so William won’t hear her through the thin wall between them. She imagines her husband alone and isolated from everyone who loves him, surrounded instead by people who would do anything to end him. And her heart breaks all over again at the idea that she may never get to fall asleep in his arms again. 

 

She lets herself cry until she has nothing left in her and she’s left raw and aching from the exertion of letting go after holding on so tightly for so long. She lets herself feel everything from anger to bone-deep grief. And then she falls asleep alone, only to wake up and replace her armor before she goes out to face the day ahead of her once more.

 


End file.
